Searching for a New Hope
by Alpacca Joe
Summary: In this AU, Daria is a quiet girl with long, shaggy hair who would rather be left alone than spend her time insulting or alienating her classmates. Rather than the angry, sarcastic girl of canon, this Daria is withdrawn from the world and carries about her an almost palpable aura of sorrow. First published on the PPMB in 2011.
1. Chapter 1

**Searching for a New Hope**

The new girl was quiet and small. She sat at her desk taking notes as the history teacher, Mr. Anthony DeMartino, ranted and raved and generally traumatized an entire generation. The girl wore her auburn hair past her waist; it brushed the seat of her desk every time she moved. Under her faded green jacket, worn unzipped over ripped jeans, was a black wife beater. On the front, just between the girl s breasts, was a large, stylized white D. A delicate hand came up, one finger extended, and pushed round-framed glasses back up her nose. Her bangs, over-long and nearly down to her chin, fell forward and blocked Jane s view. Still, she had seen enough; Jane s tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she laid her pencil flat on the page of her sketchbook and shaded in the new girl s hair.

DeMartino, used to the youngest Lane's pastime, ignored her. She passed her tests, did her homework and handed in assignments peppered with relevant and amusing anecdotes; Jane didn't try, but she really didn't need to, so DeMartino left her alone. Instead he turned to his newest victim, who not only answered the question but went on to sum up the whole of the current lesson in less than twenty words. Pleasant surprise colored the veteran s face and for the first time in years he allowed himself to hope.

The bell rang and the unruly horde rushed the classroom door. The Untouchables were the last to leave, some still packing books, one or two at the desk chatting with their teacher before the next bell. The new girl was one of the former, though the books she piled into her bag seemed to be novels, poetry and collections of short stories rather than textbooks. Face blank, the girl brushed her long hair back as she swept out of the room and something small flashed in the light as it tumbled past her shoulder. Jane, who had hung back to observe the girl further, stooped to pluck the thing from the dingy linoleum. It was a hanging silver earring in the shape of a crescent moon and arrow. Not far away sat the stopper, which Jane also grabbed before trotting out of the classroom.

Far down the hall Jane caught a flash of auburn as the girl turned a corner. Cursing, Jane stepped up her trot to a slow run and caught up with her just before she walked into Ms. Barch's Science lab.

"Hey, Dee!" she called and the girl jumped, then spun around with face pale and eyes wide. Up close she was rather short, with large almond-shaped honey-brown eyes and full rose petal lips. Her hair was thick and shiny, long bangs framing her oval face which seemed a bit drawn in the yellowish hall light. In fact, if one looked closely, light smudges were visible under her eyes and the lower lids were lined with lack of sleep. This was all drunk in and stored away in the space of a second, as was the jittery way she had turned when called.

"What do you want?" Her voice was soft, almost flat, and she spoke in a guarded manner. Unperturbed, Jane held out one graphite-smeared hand, the lost trinket nestled within the palm.

"You dropped this."

Her eyes went wider and she clutched at her right ear with something like panic, then, finding the earring gone, snatched it from Jane s hand and held it to her chest, head down and hair hanging about her like a shroud. After a moment she replaced the earring in the first hole of her right ear, beside a silver stud. When it was secure, she looked up at the girl standing before her, glanced down at her boots and tucked her runaway bangs behind one ear.

"Thanks."

Jane cocked a brow and shrugged. Just before the new girl ducked into the classroom, Jane called out to her again and she turned with curiously raised brows.

"What's your name?"

That bland expression lightened slightly and Jane found herself wondering what the girl looked like when she smiled.

"Daria."

Daria slipped into the classroom and was gone.

**o.0.o**

Timothy O Neill's Self Esteem workshop was as drippy and dull as ever, but Jane was not paying attention anyway. She was again drawing Daria, the new girl she had met briefly that morning. The girl who was at that very moment seated at the desk directly in front of her. They had a brief exchange a few minutes in, and after class walked out together. At the front of the school by the concrete sign stood a girl with red hair almost as long as Daria s, wearing a pink shirt and flared jeans. When the two approached, the redhead turned and smiled when she spotted the shorter girl.

"Daria!" Her smile faltered somewhat when they flickered over Jane and she looked at Daria questioningly.

They were still a few yards away, far enough that Daria s whisper did not carry.

"That's Quinn, my little sister." Jane nodded and waved uncertainly at the younger girl. This is Jane Lane, Daria answered when they were close enough and motioned for Quinn to walk with them. Quinn glanced over toward a convertible idling at the curb and smiled sheepishly.

"Um, actually I was invited somewhere. It's okay if I go, right? Mom said you had to know where I was."

Daria glanced at the car, and took in the haughty face of the brunette sitting at the wheel before her eyes skated over the other two occupants of the car, a pigtailed girl with nervous eyes and a bored-looking Asian girl with shiny black hair. Daria frowned, but after they hashed out the details- address, phone number, parents names and home by dinner- she waved her sister goodbye and waited until the car was out of sight before turning back to her companion.

They walked on to the Lane house, where Daria was briefly acquainted with Jane's older brother, Trent, before he fell asleep halfway through their conversation. Daria was amused rather than insulted. They ended the visit with Daria sneaking out one of the back basement windows with a promise to meet Jane before school the next day.

After ducking into a neighbor s yard to ensure no affiliation with the Lane house in the case any bank workers were in fact lurking in the area, it was off to the homestead. Daria s combat boots thudded morosely on the concrete and she would often finger the silver crescent at her ear, as if for comfort.

**o.0.o**

Quinn got home exactly three minutes, twenty-six seconds before dinner was served. Helen Morgendorffer had never been much of a cook, but now that she had a high-powered position as a corporate lawyer at one of the most notorious law firms in the state, she could not be bothered to cook dinner for her family. On the table was a tray of microwave lasagna, salad in a bag and a bottle of Coke. Everyone served themselves while Quinn rattled on about her day.

"...ice President of the Fashion Club for now, but one of the cheerleaders told me if I tried out I could probably get a spot on the squad. I don t really do all that athletic stuff but they train you anyway and it s not like I d actually have to _play_ football or anything, just cheer for the guys who do and anyway it would-"

"You can't be a cheerleader."

Everyone looked around at Daria's quiet pronouncement. Even Jake looked up from his plate, food scattered to the rim but uneaten. Helen s face screwed up in preparation for an angry outburst while Quinn looked almost hurt.

"Why not?" She flipped a cucumber over with her fork and began pushing it around her plate." I know I'm not as good as you with grades and stuff, but if I really tried-"

"You only need a 1.0 average to be on the squad- believe me, to them you d be the equivalent of Einstein and Tesla's love child. It has nothing to do with your grades, Quinn- and anyway, a B average is nothing to be ashamed about." Quinn showed a tiny smile at the praise while Helen held on to her anger, not ready to absolve her oldest child just yet. "I have class with the captain of the squad. She told me that freshmen can't join as a rule." Daria looked up and smiled. "Sorry, Quinn."

The youngest Morgendorffer looked surprised for a moment, then smiled her disappointment away.

"Oh, it's okay, I don t know if I d want to wear the same outfit every day, anyway. Oh, did I tell you what Sandi said about my shoes?"

Dinner went on this way for a while longer before the phone rang. Helen answered it with the expectation of a work call, but her eyes widened in unpleasant surprise a moment later.

"Yes, I'm her mother."

Daria froze and, across the table, Quinn met her eyes for a moment before gluing her gaze to her plate. Daria pushed her dinner away, barely touched though it was. It seemed lasagna did not agree with her all of a sudden.

"I see. Thank you for calling." The cordless was replaced in the charger with more force than was strictly necessary and Helen whirled on Daria, the very picture of the mythical Fury. "What did you do?! You were given an evaluation by the school psychologist today, and now you're being put into a self-esteem class! Did you insult her? Question her professional integrity? Ask for her I.Q.?!"

Jake turned his tired eyes on his little girl, who for all the world seemed to have shrunk in her seat. Her hair fell around her face, as it always did when she wanted to be invisible. Her hands were a knot in her lap, tight and trembling; the remains of her fingernails dug into her knuckles and left bloody, stippled crescents.

"I was signed up before I got there." The temperature in the kitchen dropped and everyone froze. "The evaluation was a formality. I was signed up when they reviewed my file. I didn't have a choice."

Silence pressed down upon the room, heavy and solid. Unable to bear the scrutiny any longer, Daria rose from her place at the table with her plate, placed it in the sink and escaped in the direction of the stairs, three sets of eyes boring smoking holes into her back all the time. A moment passed. Helen stomped over to the table, snatched her plate and slammed it down into the stainless steel sink. The sound of shattering china chased Daria all the way to her bedroom where not until she sat in her closet with her back pressed against the wall, Bohemian Rhapsody screaming from her headphones, could she pretend that this was all just a bad dream.

**.o.0.o.**


	2. Chapter 2

A delicate hand rose, curled into a loose fist, then seemed to hesitate. For a moment it hung in the air, trembled, dipped toward the door again, froze. This ballet of indecision repeated itself a few more times until finally, with a squeak of frustration, Quinn s forehead connected solidly with the door and it creaked open: it had never been closed in the first place. Sudden apprehension weighted Quinn's footsteps, but she pushed it away and peeked into the room.

"Daria?" she called, hesitant but concerned. There was no trace of her sister in the room, which was still filled with boxes and unadorned furniture. While the rest of the house was more or less squared away, Daria s room had not been set up past basic necessity. A suitcase sat open on her computer desk and her bed was set with plain white linens, still mussed from the previous night s repose. A pair of black combat boots was tossed untidily in a corner and from the closet came a distant, muffled hum. Quinn sighed in relief and walked into the room, careful to close the door firmly behind her.

A dull green glow was just visible under the closet door and Quinn knew Daria was listening to her C.D. player, probably at full volume. As quietly as possible, Quinn turned the knob and cracked the door open. Daria leaned against the back wall, fast asleep. Her C.D. player hummed on the floor beside her left hand, the disk within spinning but silent. A small smile touched Quinn s lips and, crouching down, she pushed the power button and the disk squeaked to a halt. The display went dark and, surprised into wakefulness by the sudden silence, Daria s eyes blinked open.

"Mmhangh?" she queried and Quinn giggled as she reached out to pull off the now-silent headphones.

"You fell asleep."

"Oh." She rubbed her eyes with scabbed hands and left a smear of dried blood on her cheek. "What time is it?"

"Almost eight. You wanna watch some T.V.? I can make popcorn."

Daria shook her head, and pushed her hair out of her face. Sometime during the evening, her glasses had fallen into her lap. She retrieved them now, shoved them back onto her face and drew her knees to her chest. Quinn watched sadly as her sister picked at a frayed strand of denim from one of the tears in the knee of her jeans, and sighed.

"I'm supposed to meet Sandi at her house before school tomorrow. Are you gonna be okay by yourself?"

A tense silence filled the air between them, Quinn s half guilty, Daria s resigned.

"I'll be fine, Quinn. You don't have to worry about me- I m the big sister; that's_ my_ job, remember?"

Quinn's smile was tremulous; she reached out and brushed the flakes of dried blood from her sister's cheek.

"It didn't used to be just your job."

Daria was left alone shortly after, with an admonition not to stay locked up in the closet all night. She studied her hands for a few long moments, then stripped down for bed. Her usual nightshirt, a _Ren and Stimpy Show_ tee that just reached her thighs, had been thrown in the wash following a particularly restless night. Frowning, she rooted through her suitcase in search of suitable attire. During her search a mosquito landed on her shoulder and, frustrated, she swatted it with excessive force; the shockwave rippled through her body and she had to bite her lip to keep from cursing out loud.

Tears stood in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder to survey the damage, already pissed despite herself. Then her eyes fell on the long, curving scar trailing from her left side to the lower back and her anger drained away to be replaced by a much more painful emotion. The strength went out of her legs and she plopped bonelessly to the hideous magenta carpet. She slumped forward until her forehead met her knees and stayed there for the rest of the evening, crumpled on the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

**o.0.o**

"I like those gloves." Daria glanced up from her lunch tray, followed Jane s line of sight and smiled, uncomfortable. The fingerless leather motorcycle gloves had been an impulse buy, waved in Helen s face for the joy of rebellion but never worn. Two pairs had sat buried within multitudes of socks for years before finally being dug out that morning.

"Thanks. I have another pair, if you want them."

Daria dug the extra set out of her bag and handed them to her companion. Jane s eyes widened appreciatively when her fingers came in contact with the supple, buttery leather and her lips twitched upwards into a smirk.

"Ooh, la la. Tres chic!" Jane exclaimed and, having exhausted ninety percent of her French vocabulary, switched back to English. "You sure you want to give me these? I mean, you brought them as backup, right?"

Daria waved it away and went back to ripping small chunks off of her sandwich and dropping them onto her tray. She did not want to talk about the gloves, did not want to explain that she had brought them not as a spare in the event her pair was ruined, but because it had not felt right to leave them behind... she did not want to be looked at that way, the way she had become so accustomed to.

The way her mother looked at her every day.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The two teens left their after school class in surprising spirits. They picked up some junk food from a small corner store, -popcorn, potato chips, soda, doughnuts, -and went to Jane s to watch _Sick, Sad World_ and generally just exist for a while. The next day at school they would each attempt their graduation test for O'Neill s workshop, but right now they traded vulgar jokes, tried to toss popcorn kernels into each other s mouths, fought over the last chocolate doughnut in the box.

When it came time for her to leave, Daria s steps dragged and she seemed decidedly low in spirits compared to how she had acted only minutes before. The two parted with the promise to meet again the next day and walk to school together. Jane waved Daria home from her porch, then walked back inside with a troubled frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

She had seen them, the crescent-shaped scabs on Daria s knuckles, when the girl had been coming back from the bathroom. Jane knew what those scratches meant, had in fact sported them herself on several occasions- but she also knew when not to pry. If she had pursued that subject, Daria would likely have shut her down- or bolted, and that would have been that. A beleaguered sigh trickled out into the still air and left Jane deflated. She had known the girl all of two days and already there were clouds on the horizon.

"Two roads diverged in a wood," Jane muttered as she stared down at one of the Daria sketches she had done the previous day. In this one she was holding her hair back, in the process of tucking it behind her ear- the crescent earring in her ear shone like a beacon. Jane sighed again and tossed the book on her bed. "I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: I should have stayed a damn loner, cuz this is gonna kick my ass."

Trent laughed as he walked past his sister s door.

"That's not how the poem goes, Janey," he called from the hall. "But I think I like your version better."

Jane laughed and, as usual, it made the world seem just a little bit brighter. She glanced at the book again, eyes dark with resolve, and decided to have sausage on her pizza that night. After all, it was a long road ahead and she would need the protein.

**o.0.o**

Daria and Jane successfully completed their Self Esteem class in the first week of the cycle. O Neill insisted upon calling an impromptu assembly to celebrate the occasion and, try as they might, the girls were unable to dissuade him. And so the next afternoon, a merciful Friday, they found themselves standing on stage in the large auditorium before a smattering of uninterested students. Jane was just bored, but Daria...

Daria was pissed.

Jane made a show of running off, an emotional wreck, while Mr. O Neill chased after her calling Daria s name. Daria was left at the podium, looking about as amused as Garry Coleman after being mistaken for a burnt leprechaun. A few moments of awkward silence spread through the auditorium and Daria looked up from the polished wood with a stubborn glare.

"Does anyone think this is as big a waste of time as I do?" 

The audience was surprised to be addressed so directly but, after a moment, a few mutters of assent rippled through the sparse crowd. Quinn watched her sister, surprised and a little hopeful. Daria brushed her hair back over her shoulders and hooked a thumb in the direction of the double doors which led out on to the student parking lot.

"Let's get the hell outta here and get some pizza."

A cheer echoed from the rafters as nearly forty teenagers rushed the exit, following the new girl toward cholesterol-rich freedom. The remaining faculty members tried to reassert order, but the students merely ignored the figures of authority and kept moving. Coach Gibson soon grew bored and gave up the half-hearted effort. He walked out the opposite exit and left the principal to her own devices.

"Come back here this minute or I'LL HAVE YOU ALL SUSPENDED!" Ms. Li squawked into the microphone, which brought a round of laughter from the fleeing audience. Li fumed and watched the exodus in impotent rage.

Jane walked up behind Quinn, astonished but amused.

"She always been like this?"

Able only to shake her head at first, Quinn found her voice at last and began walking after the hungry mob. After a step or two, Jane joined her.

"No. Not for a long time."

**.o.0.o.**


	3. Chapter 3

As the students present at the assembly had been excused from class, they had no problem returning from the local pizza parlor by the next bell. They laughed and joked and applauded Daria when they happened to pass her in the hall throughout the rest of the day. She blushed brilliantly, but managed to smile. It was the best she felt in a long time: she had freed her afternoons, made a new friend- the first in what felt like a lifetime, and had a fresh start. It was as though a colossal weight had been lifted from her shoulders. So naturally, she had no intention of filling her mother in on this development. Let her think Daria's late returns in days ahead were due to extra class; all it would do was assure prolonged peace.

Helen Morgendorffer could not be bothered to deal with her damaged daughter. At best she would throw money at her and stalk off in the other direction.

Daria looked down at her hands, sheathed in black leather to hide the self-inflicted wounds scattered across her knuckles. A cold light shone in her eyes for a moment, but she pushed whatever thought had caused it away. Jane stood beside her, picking at a hangnail with an expression of deep concentration. She looked up at the sudden weight of Daria s gaze and cocked a brow.

"Hey." Daria smiled slightly. "Want to come over to my place today?"

It was decided. They picked up some crappy videos from the shop by the pizza place and headed in the direction of house Morgendorffer. Every so often Daria s hand would come up and brush her earring, a motion that seemed both unconscious and tender. Jane noted this, stayed silent, and walked a little closer to the girl. Once in a while their hands would brush and, though surprised at first, Daria came to find the sensation comforting.

In the bright May sunlight, birds darted through the Forget-Me -Not sky. A fresh breeze chased the girls heels, as though herding them into the waiting embrace of their budding friendship.

**o.0.o**

Days passed into weeks, and soon summer was upon them. Lawndale bustled with the promise of long days, short nights and the siren song of reduced responsibility. Daria, Jane and a handful of other dutiful students had stayed behind to help their home room teacher, Mr. DeMartino, pack up for summer recess. He ranted much less often when class was not in session, and as he was much less high-strung the experience was not an unpleasant one.

DeMartino thanked his thoughtful students with a not-quite-as-maniacal smile and waved them off as they walked down the hall in the direction of their freedom. Daria and Jane walked with Jodie Landon, a pleasant black girl with smiling chocolate eyes and box-braids down her back. All year she had attempted to involve Daria in various activities, which the girl sometimes joined in spite of herself. Still, if there was one activity she had actually enjoyed, it was performing at Cafe Lawndale.

It had been something of an accident; an unchecked remark during English class had somehow led the overly enthusiastic teacher to dedicate a project in her name. Fund-raising had proven to be a dead end- almost literally- and, forced to participate one way or another, Daria had ended up on stage at the coffee house's grand opening.

Daria sat on a stool, a sole spotlight illuminating her form as she carefully tuned an ocean-blue acoustic guitar. Mother of Pearl accents ran all along the neck and just between the sixth and seventh frets was a stylized D over a crescent moon, an arrow shot through its center. Jane sat at a table just at the foot of the small stage, curious as to what Daria would do. Then the girl brushed her hair back out of her eyes, cleared her throat and started to play.

"Today's the Macy's Day Parade  
The night of the living dead is on its way  
With a credit report for duty call.  
It s a lifetime guarantee  
Stuffed in a coffin ten percent more free  
Red light special at the mausoleum."

Daria's voice was soft and melodious; it calmed the restless crowd and within moments of the song's start the shop was quiet. Every eye was on the girl as she played, and Jane stared in wide-eyed surprise at her friend. Daria had told her that she played the flute, but had only done so for a few years before quitting. Other than that, she had made no mention of musical interest, much less talent. Jane listened with awe and appreciation, a small smile tugging at her lips in the muted light.

"...learned the hardest way.  
Then I realized what it took  
To tell the difference between thieves and crooks;  
A lesson learned to me and you.

Give me something that I need,  
Satisfaction guaranteed-  
Because I'm thinking about a brand new hope,  
The one I've never known, cause now I know It s all that I wanted."

Without the bass and drums to back it up, the song was somehow softer. Less melancholy, almost gentle. Daria's quiet voice touched those who stood or sat listening to her in a way the song, which had enjoyed only minimal play on MTV when the video had first come out, had never done before. Jane found herself closing her eyes to better appreciate it, something she had never had occasion to do with a Green Day song before.

Daria smiled, a tiny expression of contentment that was rarely seen on her face. As she played, she thought of Jane, the friend she now knew she had been searching her entire life to find.

"...brand new hope,  
The one I've never known  
And where it goes.  
And I m thinking about the only road,  
The one I've never known  
And where it goes.

And I m thinking about a brand new hope,  
The one I've never known cause now I know It s all that I wanted."

She played the refrain, rested her hand on the pick guard and sighed as the final note echoed through the small space. All was silence as she looked up at the smattering of astonished students, who regarded her with wide eyes but not much else. A small shrug expressed her thoughts on the matter and she un-slung her guitar as she hopped down from the stool.

A single clap froze her to the stage, eyes wide behind her glasses. It was followed by another, and soon it became slow applause. This lone fan was soon joined by another, then another, until it sounded as though the entire coffee house was applauding. Daria turned to see just that, and one by one the students stood, not just clapping but whistling now, some cheering her where she stood. A standing O. Jane sat at the foot of the stage, eyes and smile bright as she clapped softly. For Daria, that was all the praise needed.

**o.0.o**

Summer was always a bit disappointing for the Morgendorffer girls. Helen was always thinking up ways to keep them busy while she and Jake were out of the house, and this year was no different. Daria had gotten herself a part-time job as soon as June had rolled around, but for Helen Morgendorffer, it wasn't enough. Daria s job was insufficient to keep her busy and out of trouble all summer long, so Helen had decided to send her to the local community college for summer courses. It did not go over well.

"You are going," Helen commanded firmly, eyes ablaze. Her lips were pressed into a hard, stubborn line; with her lipstick on, her mouth looked like a raw slash across her face. "And that is final, am I understood?"

"No," Daria snarled, chin up in defiance. "You're _not_. I don t know what bug you have up your ass, but I m not taking extra classes just so you can keep me out of your way."

"You're taking these courses to better your mind,_ not_ just because all you do during summer is loaf around and waste time."

"Better my mind? I already have an A+ average, I've never gotten anything lower than a B on any test in any class, and you want me to 'better my mind?' I m not buying that bullshit."

"You will _not_," Helen hissed, shock and rage dueling for supremacy on her flushed face, "speak to your mother that way."

"No," Daria agreed as she slung her backpack back over her shoulder. She had to swing her hair out of the way to do so, but it was a motion grown natural from long practice. "But I ll talk to _you_ that way."

She was halfway to the door when Helen s control broke.

"You are **never** to see that Lane girl again!" Daria froze mid-step, but did not dare to turn lest her face betray her. "If spending time with her causes you to behave this way, then that's it. You are forbidden to so much as speak to her from this day on."

"Oh, yeah?" A cruel smirk twisted Daria s pink lips as she turned neatly on her heel to face Helen where she stood in the kitchen doorway. "Wanna try and make me?"

An eon seemed to pass in the small space of a few seconds as Helen stared at her daughter, face suddenly pale and lips trembling. Daria took these signs as surrender and, with a last derisive glance, stalked once more for the front door. Jane had invited her over, anyway. She still had time to get there before her friend made other plans, i.e. fell asleep.

"You ungrateful child." It was said in a soft, venomous voice Daria knew well. She had not heard it in months, but it was well-remembered; goose bumps rose on her arms and the hair stood on the nape of her neck as her stomach clenched. "Look at everything I've given you, and do you appreciate it?"

"Gonna cry now?" They were words spoken often when Helen tried to pull one of her guilt trips on her daughters... but this was the first time they had come from Daria's mouth. And no one was more shocked at them than she.

Helen's answer was automatic.

"Goddammit, Diana, would you jus-"

Daria whipped around with the speed of a striking snake, eyes glistening and face contorted in agony.

"I'm** NOT DIANA!**" she fairly shrieked at her shocked mother, who took a step back and raised a hand to her throat at the uncharacteristic outburst. "I know you wish I were, but unfortunately for you, wishes don t come true!"

The door slammed with her exit, shook in the frame and soon all was silent. Helen sagged against the entryway and covered her eyes with a trembling hand.

**.o.0.o.**


End file.
